


Taking The Cure

by orphan_account



Series: Cure [2]
Category: EastEnders
Genre: Chryed, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking It</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking The Cure

Christian was a mess – he'd made a mess of him: bite marks, nail marks... Ouch! that one looked sore... He touched it with the tip of a finger and smiled when Christian faux winced. “Tough guy.”

“Animal. What got into you?”

Well there was an obvious answer to that and why not be obvious – he had after all been doing exactly that for the last 40 minutes! “You.” A smiling kiss to stop his response.

When he let him up Christian gave him a stern look. “Can't stay in bed for the rest of our lives, Sy. We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do.” He was smiling and knew he looked like an idiot. Christian's frown made him doubly sure of it.

“So? You're here. Why? Oh let me rephrase that. What's changed?”

Another obvious answer. “Me.”

Christian's stare said that he wasn't convinced. “Yeah?” No snide remarks, just waiting for him to say his piece. Deep down, deep, deep down even Christian could sense the change. He just wasn't consciously aware of it yet.

Syed touched his jaw. “You're going to go mad when I tell you this, so er don't okay?”

He stiffened, mouth tightening a little, but simply said: “Okay.”

“I've been having therapy – for the last couple of months I've been seeing a therapist to cure me of my homosexuality.” He took a deep breath, held it, waited.

Christian stared for a moment then put both arms around him and pulled Syed into his arms. “Oh Sy,” he whispered, kissing the side of his face.

Syed hadn't expected to cry at any point in this conversation and certainly not at _this_ point, but that gesture had been so unexpected, yet so illustrative of just who Christian was and further illustrative of just how Christian felt about him, that it by-passed all his defences and hit him in the one spot he _hadn't_ been able to defend.

“I tried, Christian, really tried, but the more I did it the worse it got – it was like it was _designed_ to actually make me want you more!” He found himself able to laugh at this irony. “It was such a lie, so artificial – like he'd say al these things that I guess a straight person would think, but I know that straight guys – most of them – don't think that way. They don't need to make themselves repulsed by the idea of touching another guy – and not even in a sexual way, Christian – just guys can't be seen as attractive in _any_ way even if you don't actually want to fuck them. That's not normal, straight guys can still think David Beckhams' fit and not want to fuck him, they don't need to imagine him covered in pus to stop themselves knowing he's fit. It just felt so wrong, so forced. They can't _really_ cure you, can they?”

Christian kissed his hair. “No, baby, they can't. Doesn't stop them taking your money and fucking up your head though.”

“I know. I wanted to be cured, though.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful, hinting a little at the shame he'd felt when he'd taken a long, hard, unflinching look at recent events.

“I know.”

“And then I realised that it didn't matter. You know how you can go for ages trying to work out this one problem – you think you've looked at every angle – up, down, sideways and there's just no solution, no way to solve it, so you kinda resign yourself to never solving it and then someone says something completely unrelated and you suddenly get it? Well that's how it was with me. I was sitting in the kitchen, listening to mum and dad talking, pot of curry on the cooker, radio on next door and it occurred to me that this wasn't the life I wanted, that all these years I'd be striving to have this life and I didn't even actually want it. What I _actually_ wanted was the opposite of that – no domesticity, no wife or kids – I actually wanted to test myself in the real world, be who I am, be all that I could be. All my life there'd been this expectation that I'd follow in their footsteps. I say that but all I mean is be normal, marry and have kids and because that IS normal it's what I strived for without really giving it too much thought. That's why being gay didn't factor into that – it was a glitch that's all, but the master program was still operational.” He grinned. “Now I sound like Data from Star Trek.”

“Well thank god you're a lot, _lot_ cuter than him.” A hard, firm kiss on the mouth.

“It _felt_ like a programme and Allen – the therapist – compounded that with this idea that something had gone wrong – with the programme – in childhood or something – and as one of the technicians who understood the programme he could fix me.”

“Bollocks!”

“I know. But it really _helped_ , Christian. It was when I got this idea of there being a programme that I realised that it _was_ a programme – grow up, get married, have kids, die... Everyone does it so it must be right. Anyone who doesn't conform is a virus that must be destroyed. But you know, sometimes a computer programme regards any _new_ thing as a virus and seeks to destroy it. I think anything different is often seen as a threat...”

Christian was touching his hair, stroking it off his forehead. “That's deep – never actually thought of it like that at all, but I can see it. So, you think you've overcome the programme?”

“I'm here, aren't I? Against all 'advice', against all 'programming'. I'm here, because I no longer regard myself or my love for you as a virus. I'm something vital to the smooth running of the programme, the element that allows the programme to keep evolving and adapting to save it from obsolescence.”

“Ooh my, baby's gone all intellectual on me.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, punching him lightly in the chest. “I feel good, Christian, for the first time since I discovered I liked boys not girls I feel that I have a place in this world, a right to be here.”

“And all it took was some scumbag, ex-gay, closet-case, repressed dickhead!”

“Exactly. Let's drink a toast to the therapeutic process!”

“Later,” Christian winked, rolling on to his back and pulling Syed on top of him. “Now then, tell me more about all this intellectual 'stuff' you've been keeping from me. Ever tell you I have a kink for nerds?”

“Oh you got room in the cupboard for that one too?”

“Well I know what, why don't I throw out my kink for repressed, closet case Muslim guys to make room?”

“Done.”


End file.
